


To pass a test

by Fourleaves_Clover



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Creature Fic, Issho is a good boyfriend, M/M, OPAdmiralsWeek2020, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Yuki Onna Kuzan, they get married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26459065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourleaves_Clover/pseuds/Fourleaves_Clover
Summary: Day 1:Monster || Magic/Mythology AUSnow had started picking up again at some point, creating an insulated curtain that muted the sounds around them. Things seemed to have slowed to a stop, a frozen instant in time where nothing else existed except for him, Issho, and the snowflakes falling from heaven, white and pure.Part of One Piece's Admirals Week 2020
Relationships: Aokiji | Kuzan & Fujitora | Issho, Aokiji | Kuzan/Fujitora | Issho
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: One Piece Admirals Week 2020





	To pass a test

**Author's Note:**

> This story is mostly based on the folklore of Japan regarding the Yuki Onna, with my personal twist on it. The story is inspired by Case Closed Volume 51, File 1 story. I tried my best to do the story justice and I hope that you guys enjoy it. If you spot any grammar mistakes, please forgive me, English isn't my native language. With that said, please enjoy this romance between two people of two different species, on a snowy day.

Feeling cold was the first sign that the hunger was coming back.

As a creature who made his home within these snowy mountains, Kuzan should have gotten used to it by now, but it was never easy when it came. The freezing winds cut, digging into his inhuman flesh mercilessly like sharpened claws. The hours were spent huddling deep within the safety and comfort of his snow hut while his hands shook and his blue lips tingled unpleasantly. His pale skin turned even more pallid, blending into the snow eerily every time he shifted. His form had trouble solidifying, and he spent more time sleeping than he was awake.

Slowly but surely, he felt his life waste away.

Jerking awake from his deep slumber, Kuzan blinked sluggishly, unable to comprehend what had woken him up when he heard it. Soft footsteps approaching the hut cautiously before a familiar yet unwelcoming face popped inside his haven. “Cousin,” Monet greeted, the pleasant smile on her face widened when Kuzan frowned, doing his best to ignore her existence. He didn’t know why she was here now. She had her part of the mountain range, far away from him where she fed on men and women indiscriminately. 

They never got along. They clashed far too much and as possessive creatures, neither wanted to intrude on each other’s territory anyway. That was an invitation for wars. 

“You need to feed more often. The whole family is worried about you, you know,” she chided, approaching him closer when it was clear that Kuzan wasn’t going to be bothered with moving any time soon. Monet cupped his face, letting her thumb slide up his high cheek bone.

Kuzan shivered despite himself, feeling the difference in their core temperatures. She was so much warmer than him, just slightly below a normal human, while he was ice-cold, approaching closer to the temperature of the ice and snow that surrounded him instead. It spoke volumes of their diets.

Monet laughed at the disgruntled look on Kuzan’s face, pulling her hand away when he continued to shiver. “If you feed more often, you’d feel warmer, too, Cousin. You like to pretend you are one of those good guys, but in the end, you always give in,” she leaned in, her breath condensed into tiny droplets hanging briefly in the air between them. “Do you know how I know?” Monet asked, the rhetorical question made her lips curl up in a sardonic smirk. “Because you are still _ alive _ .”

Kuzan scoffed, batting her hand away. “If you don’t have anything meaningful to say, go back to your territory and leave me alone. I know how to take care of myself without you poking your nose into my business,” he said irritably, hunger making his temper short. 

They called themselves family but it wasn’t as if they were  _ actually  _ related the way humans did. Creatures like them didn’t reproduce. They manifested themselves from the snow and ice, an unfortunate accident claiming the life of a lonely soul, a nature spirit turning bitter with time, an animal living long enough to become a monster… Just because they shared a few traits with one another and fed on humans to live didn’t mean that Kuzan harbored any affection for the twisted snow woman before him, even if he was one himself.

Monet chuckled, watching Kuzan make himself more comfortable where he was lying. He ignored the way his body quivered with hunger, refusing to let his guard slip. “I’m just worried. You are always the most stubborn one among us. Even someone as powerful as you can be taken out if you are weak enough,” she said, eyeing Kuzan calculatingly. The fake mask of kindness peeled off just enough to expose a heart colder than ice as she bared her razor-sharp teeth. “You’re not making it easy for us to ignore our instinct and have a try at you, not when you are just sitting there wasting away. It might even be _ kindness _ .”

Kuzan arched an eyebrow and sat up from his slouch, stretching a leg out. “Oh?” he asked, the snow floor of his hut groaned and shook, transforming from soft pristine snow to solid ice. It expanded and cracked, creating deep crevices on the ground. From the gaps grew out icicles, thick and menacing, glinting dangerously as they surrounded Kuzan like a thorny throne. “Would you like to be the first to try, Cousin?” Kuzan challenged, breaking off a spire of ice and held it up like a blade. “I don’t mind getting some practice with my ice.”

Monet put both hands up in a universal gesture of surrender, taking a few steps to get out of range. Pointless. She was surrounded by his ice already so she wouldn’t be able to escape no matter where she went. “Oh my, no need to get testy, Cousin,” she placated, but Kuzan just narrowed his eyes further, not in the mood to deal with her games right now. “It’s just friendly advice. It’d be foolish of me to try and take you out right now,” Monet said. She assessed his state from head to toe. “But, if you ever feel like dying for real, do send me a notice, I’ll make sure to be the first one to come and claim your land. Don’t worry, I’ll take extra care of it,” her words wore down the last of Kuzan’s patience and he pulled his hand back, aiming for her heart and threw his makeshift spear.

Already expecting it, Monet’s hands were already half way through her transformation into a pair of wings while her feet formed talons. She ducked out of the way, flying out of his hut. She laughed, watching the icicle shatter upon impact with the ground, leaving behind millions of little shards that glinted like crystal under the sun.

“Tt,” Kuzan grunted, glaring in her direction until she disappeared from sight, slouching back. His stomach growled, demanding his attention. Kuzan placed a hand over it, trying to sooth his hunger.

He really needed to eat soon.

* * *

Monet had been right, of course. Kuzan hated her because she was right.

He always gave in to the urge to feed, in the end.

It was the most damning fact of all.

The next day, Kuzan set out to one of the more populated sections of the mountain that he rarely visited, a safe distance away from his lair. He plopped down on the snow-covered ground, allowing his power to settle around him like a fluid cloak, ready to pick up on the desire of any unfortunate passerby.

Snow women… or snow man, as his case might be, were beautiful creatures  –  with a twist. They were irresistible wonders because they chose to be, allowing their fluid forms to take shape according to their victim’s wish. It was easier to trick someone into lowering their guard if they appeared as if they walked straight out of someone’s fantasies, be it a softly spoken woman, or a handsome gentleman. It had never really bothered Kuzan, whichever gender or form that he took, male or female. Genders were a human construct, and he had as hard a time understanding it as he did the concept of money. He did find the thought of how often his power transformed him into a woman with huge bazongas extremely amusing though.

Humans could be so simple at times.

Kuzan leaned forward, propping his face up with one hand. Most times, his action confused his family, who trapped and consumed their victims’ vitality, preferring to find a way to drag them into a deep dark corner where they wouldn’t be found for months, if ever. 

Kuzan was different though. He preferred to give them… a challenge, of sort. A test of character, as some might call it. If they passed it, they would be spared, but if they didn’t, their life was his to take. So far, none had passed yet, and they all fell victim to Kuzan’s icy grip. He didn’t lose any sleep over the deaths caused by his hands, but it was a sad state of affairs when the words the others said about humans started to ring true to his ear; Humans, they said, were only kind to them because they were beautiful, and when challenged, they would work toward their goal, but only for a little while. When obtaining that beauty meant too much work, they would readily abandon it to save their hide. Humans were selfish, evil creatures that were just another thing on the menu for them, nothing worth sparing.

Kuzan smiled humorlessly at the memory.

It might be so, but he used to be a spirit of ice before taking this form. It would probably always be in his nature to be more merciful than the rest. Like freshly fallen snow, he naïvely wanted to believe in kindness despite having seen otherwise many times before. However, just like snow, he was also capable of causing great destruction if he felt like it. Nothing was deadlier than a sudden avalanche up in these mountains.

His form suddenly shimmered, and Kuzan sat up a little straighter, knowing that it was a sign that someone was close by. He wondered if it was a man or a woman, and what kind of appearance that he would take this time.

His skin switched between different tones, before settling for a sickly pale shade that was just human enough, far closer to his actual skin than the other times he changed. Before Kuzan had the time to ponder too much on it, his icy limbs twitched and shuddered, shifting into human arms and legs without reducing in height, resulting in him still keeping his towering stature. Hmm, that was also a first. In his other form, he was far too tall and intimidating, and people’s desire was never to see someone as tall as he was. His face changed as well, but other than removing a few traits that clearly marked him as demonic and not belonging with humans, they changed nothing else. It was as if whomever was approaching Kuzan had no desire whatsoever for him to be anyone but himself.

Kuzan blinked in surprise, touching his jaw, feeling the sharp angle. His fingers brushed across his thick lips and then his curly hair, each physical characteristic remained true to  _ him _ . For the first time he started doing this, Kuzan was the human version of himself, wrapped in blue and decorated by white. It was strange to be himself after he had taken so many other faces over the years. For some unknown reason, it made Kuzan feel oddly vulnerable, like the mask that he put on to face his victims was stripped away. However, there was nothing else he could do now so Kuzan just sat there and waited, determined to go through with his test no matter the outcome.

Then he heard it, the sounds of someone approaching, accompanied by rhythmic tapping sounds.

Kuzan cleared his throat. “Excuse me! Please help!” he called, listening to the sounds as they stopped briefly before starting up again, the figure switched direction to go toward him, feeling for the ground with a cane. Suddenly, the reason why he would be himself instead of a beautiful man or woman became very clear to him.

The man that approached him was tall for human standards, with a wisteria color yukata beneath a darker purple cloak, and eyes that didn’t see. On his back was a large woven basket of wood, and he was holding tightly a cane that he used as a walking stick. It was clear that the man was on his way home from a day of hard work.

The man approached him, stopping just when the tip of his walking stick brushed against Kuzan’s leg. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized, smiling gently at Kuzan. “I’m not used to meeting people on this route,” he said. “Did you call for help?” he asked, crouching down carefully in front of Kuzan. “I’m Issho,” the man, Issho, introduced himself, extending his hand toward Kuzan’s general direction.

Kuzan looked at the offered appendage, conflicted. It was just his luck that the first person he met after months of not eating anything was blind and wouldn’t be able to appreciate beauty the same way other victims before him could. Perhaps this was how he should have conducted his test, not choosing the most beautiful form to lure people, but an unconventional beauty that didn’t stick. People’s kindness shouldn’t be exclusive to anyone that fits within the standards of beauty. That wasn’t kindness at all. Looking at the hand for another long moment, Kuzan decided to go for it. “I’m Kuzan,” he replied, grasping the outstretched hand. He shook it, feeling the warmth radiate from the other. Humans always radiated so much warmth, and as creatures who struggled to keep their temperature above freezing, touching humans always felt like touching the sun. If one wasn’t careful, they could get seriously hurt.

For Kuzan who was starving, that difference stood out even more starkly. There was no doubt that Issho could feel how unnaturally cold his hand was and yet he didn’t flinch or pull back. The smile on his face didn’t fade and his grip didn’t turn unkind. It was baffling. Issho was an existence that Kuzan’s mind couldn’t comprehend.

Kuzan released the handshake first, trying to regain his balance. “I, errr,” he stared for a moment, his brain trying to connect words to meanings but it seemingly stopped functioning just looking at Issho’s serene smile. Finally, he managed to remember what he was supposed to say. “I injured my ankle trying to get back and it’s getting really dark. Can you please help bring me home? I can show you the way,” he asked, shifting his ‘injured’ leg and making a small noise of pain.

It took no time at all for Issho to reach a conclusion. “Of course. I don’t mind helping. Can you walk?” he asked, to which Kuzan confirmed with a negative. He wanted to see how far Issho would go to be kind. The human man made a little noise of sympathy. “I see. The woven basket I’m carrying is pretty big, it might fit you if you curl up, is that alright?” he offered, unstrapping the basket from his back and putting it in front of him. He retrieved the wood from the basket, holding it under his armpit.

Kuzan studied the woven basket for a moment. True to Issho’s words, it was a pretty big one. It would be a tight fit for Kuzan if he tried to squeeze in, but he could probably get in with enough determination. He supposed he was already receiving help, he shouldn’t be complaining. “That’s alright. Thank you for your help,” Kuzan said with a slight smile despite knowing that the other couldn’t see it. He got up gingerly, and with Issho’s help, got himself in the basket.

Immediately, Kuzan realized his initial assessment was right. It was  _ tight _ , unbelievably so. His legs were pressed flush against his chest, leaving little room for air. His arms were also too long, sticking awkwardly out of the basket and hanging there without anything to hold onto. “Err… What’s the word to describe this…?” Kuzan muttered, squawking gracelessly when Issho lowered himself to slip his arms into the straps and lift the basket, along with Kuzan in it. “Is this really alright?” Kuzan couldn’t help but ask, watching Issho feel for the ground with his cane again.

Issho smiled, the laugh lines around his eyes crinkled. “It’s fine. Please hold on tight. Tell me when to take a turn. Don’t worry, I’ll take you home,” he reassured, the familiar words were something Kuzan had heard countless times before. He relaxed against the basket, gripping the edge. He finally remembered that he was dealing with humans, and humans always broke in the end. Experience taught him that even if he wanted to believe otherwise.

Kuzan stayed silent, tapping Issho’s right shoulder to start leading him back to his home deep within the mountain, where no humans had ever ventured to and come out alive yet.

* * *

The road back to his home was long and hard, straying completely off course to the main route. The snow here was untouched, slippery and treacherous, a true challenge to even a normal person but still, Issho didn’t complain. He walked with purpose, only turning at Kuzan’s signaling taps. At this point, the snow had piled up to his calves, and with each step he took, Issho let out a tired huff of air. The walking cane now had an added function of supporting both of their weights, and Kuzan felt the way his legs trembled under the strain. He said nothing to the observation though, leaning back to look at the sky. Snow had started picking up again at some point, creating an insulated curtain that muted the sounds around them. Things seemed to have slowed to a stop, a frozen instant in time where nothing else existed except for him, Issho, and the snowflakes falling from heaven, white and pure.

“Kuzan-san,” Issho suddenly called, trembling with cold. Kuzan sat up straighter, placing his hands on Issho’s shoulders, feeling the layer of sweat beneath his cloak. “Are we on the right path?” he asked in a hushed voice. He sounded like he didn’t want to break the peaceful silence around them, either, a fact that Kuzan appreciated. Humankind could be so _ loud _ , their noises overwhelmed nature that rarely spoke in the first place. If they didn’t listen, they would never hear the sounds of the tree made when it fell in a forest. Issho seemed like he was one of those rare ones that took the time to truly  _ listen _ , and one who had actually heard the whispers in the winds. Kuzan had never met one of those before, despite knowing that they existed. He truly appreciated Issho’s carefully soft voice more than words could say.

“We are,” Kuzan confirmed just as quietly, watching Issho give him a reassuring smile before continuing on. Kuzan watched him silently, his fingers absently played with a few loose straws. He knew that Issho didn’t know where they were going. It was a question that most also asked before they decided that taking him back was too much trouble and excused themselves. Any minutes now, and Issho would follow the same route many before him had done. Kuzan was ready for it. He only regretted that the brief peace and company he had with the other human would be gone. It was nice while it lasted.

As they crossed a darkened patch of the forest where the branches blocking the weak sun from piercing through, Issho finally stopped. “Kuzan-san…” he began, out of breath and voice hoarse from the cold. He placed his hand against a tree, struggling to take heavy heaving gasps of air.

Kuzan’s heart sank before a sense of acceptance overcame him. Issho had endured far longer than any other person before him had, and for that, he praised him for his tenacity. However, in the end, perhaps all humans were the same. He had been too hopeful. “Yes?” Kuzan answered anyway, voice soft, waiting with bated breaths for Issho to tell him to go home on his own, that Issho wasn’t going to carry him anymore. The road was too long, and the terrain too harsh.

“Are you cold?”

Huh?

“…What…?” Kuzan uttered dumbly, in complete disbelief as to what he had just heard. Issho couldn’t possibly mean that, right? Did Kuzan hear it wrong somehow?

Issho turned his head, doing his best to look at Kuzan with unseeing eyes that seemed to peer right into Kuzan’s cold, jaded heart. “Are you cold, Kuzan-san?” he repeated the question. By now, Kuzan was sure that he hadn’t misheard the words. Issho, exhausted and on the verge of passing out, was worried about  _ Kuzan _ . It was surreal. A man like him couldn’t exist, could he? Issho continued, undeterred. “It’s uncomfortable sitting in a basket, isn’t it? Are you hungry? Just a little more. Please, endure just a little more. I’ll take you home to your family.”

Kuzan leaned back in shock, looking at Issho in disbelief while Issho slowly turned around and started walking again. There was so much that he wanted to ask the other.  _ How _ ? How could he be worried about Kuzan while it should have been clear to him that he was going into the mountain where no one but beasts lived? Wasn’t he scared for his life? Wasn’t he tired? Why would he still bear no grudge against Kuzan for leading him on? Kuzan tightened his grip around the basket. “…Don’t you know who I am?” he asked, allowing his power to fade just enough for his skin to turn into that pallid, unnatural shade of freshly fallen snow. “… _ What _ I am?” Kuzan corrected himself, playing with the edge of the basket indecisively. “You shouldn’t have taken pity on me.”

Issho didn’t stop, merely chuckling warmly at Kuzan’s questions. “I can’t see. I don’t really know who or what you are. All I know is that you sound sad and you need help,” he said genuinely. “It gets lonely all by yourself, isn’t it? It’s alright. I don’t mind keeping you company until you reach home,” he reassured. “I’m the one who decides what I should or shouldn’t have done. You seem like a really good person. I have no regret helping you.”

‘I’m not a person at all,’ Kuzan wanted to say, but he found the words refusing to leave him, the lump in his throat too big to overcome. In the end, he could only bow his head. “Yes…” he answered simply, not even sure what he was saying ‘yes’ to. That he was lonely, or that didn’t mind the company at all, or whether that was a yes to the fact that he needed help, or just a general ‘yes’ that meant nothing at all. Whatever it was, the simple word wasn’t enough to convey the depth of emotions he was feeling right now from Issho’s kindness and humanity.

A warmth that he didn’t know existed before bloomed inside him like plum blossoms, banishing the perpetual winter of his heart away and signaling the beginning of spring. Despite still feeling feeble and weakened by hunger, Kuzan couldn’t help the rosy flush that spread from his now thawed heart up to his face, darkening his cheeks. He struggled with himself for a moment, knowing that he had lost this challenge. Issho had passed his test of character. Even knowing so, Kuzan couldn’t even get angry at him. How could he, when Issho was the first person to ever really melt the ice walls that he put up around himself, being kind to the very end even after Kuzan had pretty much all but told him that he had tricked him to this position.

It was ironic that once Kuzan had met the one person he knew was worth sparing, he didn’t want to leave him at all. However, he had already made his vow and he was going to stick to it, no matter how much it hurt him to do so. Kuzan closed his eyes, gathering his power to him and letting himself switch places with the vast emptiness of snow around them, filling Issho’s basket up with snow and ice crystals. The only proof that he had been there at all was the delicate blue and silver kimono that he had wrapped himself in. He hid himself between the trees, far enough to keep himself unnoticed but close enough to follow Issho’s footsteps, purposely clearing a path for the other so he could trace his way home without getting lost.

Ever sharp, Issho picked up on Kuzan’s suspicious silence immediately and he paused, removing his basket in worry to peer inside. Kuzan’s heart clenched when he heard the confusion in Issho’s voice. “Kuzan-san?” he called, reaching inside the basket only to find snow and ice. “Kuzan-san, did you leave already?” Issho asked, feeling for the basket for a moment only to find the kimono that Kuzan had left behind. Issho held the fabric up, holding it with careful hands the same way he carefully carried Kuzan through the mountain. Issho sighed, looking around some more before he called again, his voice echoed eerily in the quiet landscape. “Kuzan-san, if you ever feel like it, come visit. No one should be alone and your company is lovely,” he said and with a heavy heart, he was forced to pour the snow and ice out of his basket and began the long trek back home, the kimono in the crook of his arm as he felt for the melted snow path.

Kuzan stayed behind, watching Issho’s lonely back as it went further and further away from him, disappearing from sight. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one needing company after all.

* * *

Next year, when the first plum blossom flowered amidst the ice and snow, Kuzan showed up, knocking on the door of a home. One second, two second and then three… The familiar tapping sounds approached the sliding door and it slid open. Kuzan bowed deeply to the man in front of him despite knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see it. “Issho-san, I’m back. If you will have me, I’d like to stay behind this time,” he said, hiding his nervousness behind fake confidence.

Almost immediately, Issho smiled, wide and sincere, all squinty eyes and tilted up lips like he had been waiting for this. He stepped aside. “Welcome back, Kuzan-san,” he said, allowing Kuzan to step inside the warm interior of his humble house. Kuzan couldn’t help the smile on his face.

It felt like he was finally coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Redpen1992 for helping me beta this. And also my special thank to every one in the Discord chat for cheering me up when I'm feeling down and to help me keep my motivation high throughout the month prior to this. Without you guys I could never complete the goal I set out. You guys are the real champ.


End file.
